My Love/Hate Relationship with Victoria’s Secret

Love: how unbelievably sexy you look and feel in their merchandise.

Hate: how expensive most of their merchandise is.

Love: how gorgeous their models are.

Hate: that I would never be able to model for them.

Love: getting a bikini for $7 on clearance.

Hate: when they lie and say that your swim suit cup size will be the same as your bra size and then it’s not.

Love:shopping online, and viewing slightly scandalous things from the comfort and privacy (and convenience) of wherever I want.

Hate: that in the span of 6 weeks they feel the need to send me 4 separate catalogues, 2 of which are so thick staples would barely bind them.

Love: the coupons they send me because I shop there so much (they just sent me a $10 off coupon for my birthday).

Hate: when some coupons have restrictions (i.e.: not applicable online).

Love: the incredibly adorable and outrageous things they have (like this ^^^)

Hate: that I would never have anywhere or any reason to where such a thing (for some reason lingerie fashion shows are not part of my life…).

Love: a lot of their clothing.

Hate: that they have such a poor selection in their stores that sizing and seeing things real-life is tough (which is why I don’t buy their clothes).

Love: casually browsing their website, finding things I want but know I would/could never buy, and adding them to my wishlist.

Hate: that my wishlist total is over $600.


The Great Demise of my Exes

When you find out your ex-boyfriend has failed (even more than the simple fact that he couldn’t manage to stay with the beautiful specimen that is you), you should feel good about it right? Presumably, he hurt you, fucked up, and probably did something wrong and that’s why you’re not together. Not always and not totally, but I feel like exes generally become an enemy. So their failure should be your success, no? Apparently it doesn’t work that way for me.

I don’t have an extremely long dating history, but somehow I managed to pack in some very different people. One of the first guys I really fell for in high school ended up dropping out. (I know, how do I pick such winners?) I found out that my most recent ex, who I dated for, in my opinion, a dangerously long time (especially if you take into account that we made the transition from high school to college), has apparently been pulled out of school by his parents because they found out all he’s been doing is smoking weed (ohh uncontrolled idiot frat boys). There really have only been a couple other guys of consequence in my life, and as far as I know, they’re doing fine (or at least are still in school).

So, when the first guys I fell hard for, teenage dream style (ohh being a high school sophomore), gets drunk cheats on me, then later drops out of high school, why don’t I rejoice because karma seems to have caught up with him? Honestly, it was really just sad. Smart kid drops out of high school due to family problems and lack of effort. Now what about boy #2? The apparently weed-obsessed douchebag who is no longer in college. I actually felt a little good about this one; or at least not at all bad. I can’t possibly garner sympathy for him after how things ended. It was really just a cold, he’s pathetic (as if I didn’t already know) and this just shows how much worse he’s gotten since we broke up in March.

What makes it really hard to feel happy (other than the fact that deep down I actually am a nice person, so laughing at other people’s life failures is generally not a hobby) is that I dated them at one point. I’m not saying that I still really care about them (because I’m over them), but since I was once attached to them I feel as if in some distance echo way, they still represent me. It reflects poorly on me that people I associated myself that closely with have fallen so far. And/or that they probably weren’t all that great when I was with them. I guess it’s somewhat of a humbling moment. Also, a great time to note improvement since the boy I was hooking up with last semester and the boy I’m with now seem to be fully functioning, quality people (who are still in Cornell, might I add).

Sometimes I wish the past would just slowly die off, so I wouldn’t need to see it. Like a snake molting and leaving the dead skin behind. I want to just slither away with my shiny new scales.

Music of the Week: Not Over It

Not over someone? Yea, neither is anyone else.

The Spill Canvas – All Over You video download

Chris Brown – She Ain’t You video download

Jackson 5 – I Want You Back song download

Scouting for Girls – I’m Not Over You song download

Gavin DeGraw – Not Over You video download

Rihanna – P.S. (I’m Still Not Over You) song download

Mike Posner – Still Not Over You song download

Lloyd – Can’t Get Over You song download

The Powers of the Internet are Vast

But of course, like most people, I use it for stupid things. I found this link pretty fascinating. I’m still a little confused at to why kissing burns for calories on average than sex. Doesn’t that seem counter intuitive??

I guess the real message is that we should all be having more steamy makeout sessions, if not for our emotional or physical enjoyment, but for the sake of having hot bodies (which are all the better for hot, steamy sex)!  

I just realized sake and saké are spelled the same. Woah.


I can’t deal with it. It drives me crazy. I’m smart, able-bodied, and driven. I don’t like when I have to do more work because something else or someone else isn’t working properly.

My biggest annoyance right now is electronic/media incompetence (including, actually especially, that of sites such as this one). If I said save, you should have saved. Don’t lie to me and then let me find out hours later that my paragraphs of writing was all for naught because somehow you have better things to do than save my work??! AARGHH!

Backstory: I am working on an epic blog post. I mean epic; it’s long. I copied it (or at least what was left of it) into Word today and it’s already three pages and isn’t even halfway done. I can tell already I am going to be proud of this. Yesterday, I was chugging along, adding to the mega blog post adding my lovely thoughts and opinions, saving all the while. So naturally I think progress has been made and saved. But alas, hours later, I go to look at the blog, maybe continue adding, and I come to see large chunks missing! Gah! It was a big “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” moment. Tragic.

After a period of denial, I realized I wasn’t ever getting those pieces back. They are gone forever. Then I got pissed. I don’t like putting effort in for nothing. I didn’t trap a god in chains. I don’t deserve this. (that was a mythological reference; check it.) In my mind this is the worst kind of labor to have to repeat. The writing was just sort of a thoughts-and-opinions-that-come-to-me-in-a-stream-of-thought kind of piece. It’s not easy to recreate exactly as it was. I remember generally what I wrote, but not exactly. I can no longer just let thoughts flow because I know what I had before was good, so I need to try to get that back. It is so frustrating. Even once I have what could be a nice rewrite of it, I feel like it’s probably just a shell of the free-flowing, genuine writing I had before. It sounds stupid, but I could almost cry. I love creating things, anything, and it hurts when those creations are ruined. Boo.

I’m almost scared to save anything blog post on here now. I won’t even save this one, even though I’m not going to leave it here and I’m going to post it once I’m done in a minute. I’ve now been conditioned into seeing that “Save Draft” button as a “maybe I’ll save, but maybe I won’t save it, ruin your post, and crush your soul” button. No, I don’t trust it. From now on I will have to save multiple copies on other programs, maybe even hard copies, like some hermit who has theories that computers are actually aliens that have invaded and now occupy the planet waiting for the precise right moment to strike.

Ohh what I go through to blog…

Hey vs. hey :)

Is texting really that different from other communication?

Some people say that texting is causing a lot of our communication problem and confusion. Now, I do agree that it changes the dynamics of how we interact and relate to each other. But I refuse to concede that texting is the root cause of that stereotypical teenage girl obsession over the differences between “hey” or “hey :)” or “hey.” Put that same girl in a room with a boy and let them talk face to face and similar internal debates will still erupt. Did he just look at my boobs? Or was his eyes just moving down because he was blinking? Did he mean to brush my hand like that? Was that a subconscious signal that he likes me?! or was is just an accident? Poor imaginary girl.

I would like to say I’m not that girl; I don’t freak that much. But I think sometimes I’m like that. generally I won’t critique your punctuation. For the most part, that’s just part of your texting style, nbd. But I will start making assumptions about how you feel if you don’t text me at all. If it’s been two weeks, and nothing, I’ll probably assume you don’t like me. texting “hey” takes about two seconds, and if you didn’t think about me for two seconds in two weeks, it might be time to give up on you.

At this point, I’ve realized I have no idea where I’m going with this. I’m glad I wasn’t hoping to be a writer professionally. Thankfully I have other talents… This might be a bad sign for my blog though, if I start posts and then they all just peter out into confusion. Dammit. I promise the next post will be fully fledged and fully baked. I guess this is what I get when I just whip up a post on a whim and think it will be magical. Not quite.